


Rewind

by timeaeus



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (not rly but its not addressed that its mutual), Angst, M/M, Sadstuck, Time Shenanigans, Unrequited Love, its totally mutual love in my head lmao....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:52:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6047218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeaeus/pseuds/timeaeus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You tried to tell him a million times, but you could never get the words out of your throat.</p><p>Regret, regret, regret.</p><p>You have to go back, fix things. You can't live with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rewind

**Author's Note:**

> ty so much if u read this ik its rly short and sad sorry rip i promise that it ends like. decentlyish so it wouldnt be sad /forever/
> 
> blood is described briefly a couple of times if u have issues w that 
> 
> also!!! i only did it a lil here but i love thinking abt how the game might present itself like an actual video game, as in graphics appearing and stuff :^) also how fucked up the game actually is lol

You tried to tell him a million times, but you could never get the words out of your throat. 

Regret, regret,  _ regret.  _

It’s impossible to say it now because oxygen refuses to enter your lungs and you choke on the breaths you aren’t taking. Stop time, rewind, fastforward, anything to get you out of this hell. You might have actually frozen things on accident, because everything feels dead still for the longest moment of your life, and in the next everything is whirling and crashing and burning. 

Air fills your lungs and it’s burning. 

Oh god, oh gods, everything hurts. 

He crumples and you almost think he should shatter. When you move you expect your knees to crumble away into dust and your spine to break like glass. Your ribs crush your lungs, your own body is a cage and you crave to rip out. You lurch forward, stumble and half flash-step to his side. 

The heat of his blood on your hands make your head spin, but you’re heart’s beating too fast with adrenaline to let you pass out. His head lolls, glasses cracked, blind eyes open. Delete, delete, this isn’t happening, you fucked up your timelines somewhere along the road and some part of your delicate web got tangled. You need to go back. 

“John,” you choke, “nonononono no no no no no no-”  _ Oh no, oh no, please no no no. _

Golden light shimmers above your head. It doesn’t seem to have a true source, it comes from John and the air around him and above him. The breath symbol ripples into view, a golden glowy replica of the one on his chest. You watch it in horror, gripping fistfulls of John’s bloody shirt. The game’s awful clock chimes in your ears, as though it’s emanating from your own head, and awful letters form the word  _ HEROIC  _ overhead. 

You are blinded for a moment, and when you blink hot tears are running down your face. You hate this game, if you could even call it one. It’s fucking mocking you. There is nothing heroic about death. Especially not this one. 

Your stupid cape feels like it’s choking you. You double over, forehead pressing into John’s stomach, and  _ sob.  _ You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe. You don’t want to breathe. You can’t play this sick and twisted excuse for a game if John Egbert isn’t waiting for you at the end. 

There’s a hand on your shoulder, someone kneeling next to you. Arms around you, it’s Rose, with mascara running down her cheeks. You feel her shoulders shake but you don’t hear what she says, you only see her lips move. 

You shake off her arms. You feel nothing but the sudden weight of the reality of the game, the disbelief of watching your best friend die in front of you, and the horror of seeing his blood on your hands. You absolutely cannot believe that this is the right timeline, you fucked up somewhere and you’re going the fuck back. Backtrack, work out the kinks and smooth the rough edges, it’s trial and error. 

You duck down and kiss him, quick and desperate, pretend it isn’t sick that you can only bring yourself to do this when he’s dead. You whisper the never-said  _ I love you.  _ You press your lips to his like it’s going to bring him back to life, you sob against his breathless mouth and get his own blood and your tears on his cheeks. When you push yourself back up, Rose is looking at you with some mixture of pity and agony that you never want to see again. Too bad the image is etched into your mind. 

“Sorry,” you croak, and then you close your eyes, reach for the gears of your internal clock which you’d hoped never to mess with again, and turn it back. This time you won’t fuck up. And if you do, well, there’ll always be an infinite number of times you can watch your friends die and an infinite number of times you can try to rewind. 

This time, you pray to any higher power that might exist within or outside of the game, you won’t fuck up. 


End file.
